


double up

by thunderylee



Category: Kis-My-Ft2 (Band)
Genre: Canon Universe, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Wedding, ambiguous fujikita
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-07
Updated: 2015-07-07
Packaged: 2019-01-15 07:17:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12316362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thunderylee/pseuds/thunderylee
Summary: At Nisen’s wedding, Tamamori reminisces.





	double up

**Author's Note:**

> reposted from agck.

“Watch where you put that thing! You’re gonna poke my eye out!”

From the other side of the open door, Tamamori rolls his eyes as he adjusts the cuffs of his suit. “Save the weird sex stuff until after the wedding, will you?”

“You would think after ten years, Kenpi would know where to stick it,” Kitayama comments from one of the hotel beds, still in his pajamas.

“Har har,” Senga mutters. “It’s not my fault that Nika won’t stay still!”

“You are putting something _sharp_ near my _eyeball_!” Nikaido screams.

“What do you need eyeliner for anyway?” Tamamori asks. “It’s a wedding, not a concert.”

Senga and Nikaido exchange a look that plainly says despite being in the same idol group for most of their lives, Tamamori doesn’t know them at all.

The adjoining door opens and Fujigaya falls unceremoniously into the room, half dressed. Tamamori can’t decide which half it is and just as certainly doesn’t want to know, though the incriminating marks on Fujigaya’s neck lean toward him having been properly dressed at one point.

“Sorry I’m late,” Fujigaya mutters, making a feeble attempt at fixing his shirt. His eyes land on the two youngest in the bathroom, Nikaido hopped up on the sink in a robe while Senga powders his face. “Isn’t it bad luck to see the bride before the wedding?”

“Are you kidding?” Kitayama replies. “You can’t keep them apart for five minutes, let alone all day.”

“That’s why we’re getting married, duh,” Nikaido points out. “I’ve already spent half my life with this moron, may as well make it official.”

Kitayama snorts. “I hope you put it exactly like that in your vows.”

Nikaido starts to frown, but Senga blots those pouty lips with his own. “Whatever comes from Nika’s heart will be fine,” he says pointedly.

“Are you still gonna call him that after you’re married?” Fujigaya asks. “That’s weird, isn’t it?”

“Tama and Miyacchi still call each other by their last names,” Senga says.

“Leave us out of this,” Tamamori says quickly. “We’re nothing like you two.”

“You’ve been married for two years!” Nikaido yells.

“And I’m still trying to forget about it,” Tamamori huffs.

“You don’t mean that, do you, Tama-chan?” Miyata speaks up from next to him.

Tamamori heaves a sigh that’s bigger than he is. “No, I don’t.”

He can feel Miyata’s grin and folds his arms in annoyance. Wordlessly, Miyata nudges Tamamori’s arms apart and fixes both of his cuffs. His hands linger on Tamamori’s, the familiar touch bringing a reluctant smile to Tamamori’s face.

“You’re wearing your ring,” Miyata notices.

“We’re in the middle of nowhere,” Tamamori says defensively. “Nobody’s gonna see it but the cows.”

“I’m happy,” Miyata says. He reaches up to pull off the chain he always keeps hidden under his shirt, which holds an identical yellow gold band. “I’ll wear mine too.”

Tamamori automatically takes it from him and slides the ring on his finger, the action so reminiscent of their own union that he grimaces at the mushy feelings that wash over him.

“You two have the strangest relationship,” Kitayama tells them, then promptly shoves a meat bun in his mouth.

Fujigaya walks right over to the bed and uses both arms to drag Kitayama out of it. “How are you not dressed yet? We have to leave in two hours!”

“That gives me an hour and a half to watch the _Four Weddings_ marathon!” Kitayama protests from the floor. “Besides, the kids are hogging the bathroom.”

“Since when have you ever needed privacy to do anything?” Fujigaya exclaims. “I’ve seen your naked ass more than your last boyfriend did.”

“That’s hardly comparable,” Kitayama says, making no effort to move. “I dated him for like five minutes and I’ve worked with you for fifteen years.”

“Speaking of strange relationships,” Yokoo says from the adjoining doorway, freshly showered and clad in black robes. “Are you two getting hitched next? I’ll have to renew my ordination if it’s after this year.”

Fujigaya and Kitayama make such similar faces of disgust that Tamamori bursts out laughing.

“That would leave Yokoo-san as the odd one out!” Nikaido calls out, sounding jubilant about it.

Yokoo shrugs. “How is that any different than now?”

“Kitayama and I _have_ never and _will_ never have a thing,” Fujigaya says clearly, pointing to the marks on his neck. “I like _girls_.”

“Your loss,” Kitayama teases, laughing when Fujigaya turns away to gag.

“Stop dicking around and get ready,” Yokoo roars, and everyone listens.

The ceremony is beautiful. Tamamori didn’t think an outdoor wedding on a ranch would be pleasant for anyone, but the weather is nice and they seem to be upwind from any animals. Senga had insisted on getting married on the property that used to be Michael Jackson’s Neverland the minute marriage equality had become legal in the States, leading both his and Nikaido’s families along with the rest of Kisumai to make the very long and very expensive trip to southern California.

Nikaido’s sister stands awkwardly at the altar, the only female in the entire wedding party aside from Yokoo’s niece, whose position as flower girl came as a package deal with the minister. On the other side, Senga’s brother stares wistfully in the distance, looking like he’d rather be surfing in Santa Monica. Tamamori supposes this is the downside to marrying your best friend—you can’t be each other’s best man.

Yokoo starts the service, his loud voice carrying in the slight breeze, and Tamamori’s only a little sad that he and Miyata hadn’t had a proper wedding. Miyata’s family had invited Tamamori to join them on their vacation in New Zealand, where Miyata had professed his love for Tamamori just like he had many times before and Tamamori had dragged him to the nearest chapel. To this day, Tamamori doesn’t know what had prompted him to make it official, only that they happened to be in a place that allowed it and it felt right at the time.

Naturally, their families were ecstatic and Miyata’s parents bought their rings from a local New Zealand jeweller. They wouldn’t be able to wear them in Japan, of course, so they put them on chains to wear underneath their shirts whenever possible. The rest of the group were surprised when they found out several months later because Tamamori and Miyata hadn’t even been dating. Tamamori couldn’t explain his feelings without getting flustered (he still can’t), but that seemed to work in his favor.

Miyata, well. He’s nothing short of the happiest person in the world. Officially he still lives with his family, but unofficially he takes up half of Tamamori’s apartment, including the bed. Tamamori hasn’t gotten sick of having him around all the time yet, so he must have made the right decision. Their first anniversary was spent eating pizza and marathoning an old Yamapi drama, and it was perfect.

Now, as Nikaido reads his poorly written vows that has both Senga and Fujigaya’s eyes glossy, Tamamori doesn’t know who reaches for whose hand first. Miyata’s thumb gently rubs his, those mushy feelings attacking Tamamori again as he struggles to keep himself composed in public. Predictably, Miyata’s already a mess, his free hand holding his handkerchief to his face ever since Yokoo opened his mouth to welcome them here on this day to celebrate love between two men.

If Tamamori were a romantic person, he’d wipe Miyata’s eyes for him, but instead he just squeezes Miyata’s fingers. Miyata squeezes back, the grin looking out of place on his tear-streaked face, just like when they’d exchanged their own vows. Tamamori knew that Miyata’s had been as on-the-spot as Tamamori’s were, but Miyata’s words had sounded so formal like they’d been rehearsed for years, cementing Tamamori’s spontaneous decision to marry him.

Nobody will ever care about him more than Miyata does. Nobody. Even Tamamori’s own mother had once told him that he’ll be disappointed with anyone else he tries to be with, because he’s been spoiled on Miyata’s unconditional love and affection since he was a teenager.

“Psst,” he whispers, nudging Miyata’s thigh with their joined hands. “Look to your left.”

Miyata chokes on his next sob when he catches sight of the two remaining members of their group across the aisle. “Aww.”

Kitayama notices the attention and offers a half-hearted smile, gesturing toward the head on his shoulder with an eyeroll. His arm is firmly around Fujigaya, who’s staring straight ahead like there’s nowhere else he belongs than in Kitayama’s embrace. It looks ridiculous because Fujigaya’s so much bigger, but one of their many group secrets is that he gets his strength from Kitayama, dating back to when he was fifteen and looked to his older symmetry partner for support. When things get to be too much, or his feelings are just overwhelming, Kitayama is the one he drifts toward. That’s the extent of it, as they both constantly remind everyone, but it works for them. It keeps them both happy.

Tamamori doesn’t have any right to judge someone else’s relationship anyway. His isn’t the most conventional one, and not just because of their gender. Every day he wonders why Miyata puts up with him instead of falling for someone who can actually reciprocate his feelings, but Miyata’s fine with whatever Tamamori can give him. As long as he’s Tamamori’s most important person, Miyata will stay by his side forever, and that is the one thing Tamamori can commit to.

Senga’s vows are much more romantic, the incurable sap that he is, and even Tamamori feels a twist in his heart. Yokoo smiles proudly and Tamamori knows that the sentiment is echoed throughout the little courtyard, because Senga and Nikaido go together like natto and jelly and the world keeps spinning as long as they’re together. Making it official just makes everything brighter.

By the time the legal union of their two youngest members is sealed with a kiss, Tamamori’s vision has gotten blurry. Miyata dabs his eyes and Tamamori frowns at the contact, but doesn’t pull away. He stopped pulling away a long time ago, accepting Miyata’s physical attention even if his body doesn’t like it very much.

“I don’t know why they bothered with eyeliner,” Kitayama hisses as the newlyweds link arms and skip down the aisle like a pair of excited children. “Their wedding pictures will look like two raccoons.”

Fujigaya punches him in the arm that had just lifted from his own shoulders. “Be more of an ass.”

The reception is postponed until they’re back in Japan with their friends, the irony not going unnoticed that they’ll be celebrating a marriage in a place that does not recognize it. For the rest of the day, they’re unglorified beach bums, loitering at the Santa Monica Pier and taking the selfies they’d promised their manager in exchange for this group vacation.

The eyeliner long washed off, Senga and Nikaido look so happy in their pictures that anyone with a pair of eyes can see that something is different about them, something that makes them even more of a best combi. Tamamori and Miyata’s pictures are more of the usual, though Tamamori might be smiling more in these. He blames the sun, or the fact that both Senga’s brother and Fujigaya had just wiped out while Tamamori rode his wave all the way in.

That night, Fujigaya and Yokoo go out on the prowl while Kitayama returns to his TBS marathon and Senga and Nikaido consummate their marriage so loudly that Tamamori has to drag Miyata out of their hotel room down the hall. There’s no shortage of things to do in Los Angeles after dark, but Tamamori doesn’t want to do any of them and Miyata just walks by his side as he wanders aimlessly through the neon lights and crowds of fashionably dressed people.

“Tama-chan, do you regret marrying me?”

It’s so out of the blue that Tamamori stops short in the middle of traffic and Miyata has to pull them both onto a corner so they don’t get hit. “Where the fuck did that come from?”

“You’ve been so quiet all day.” Miyata shoves his hands into his pockets as he meets Tamamori’s eyes, which instantly stare at the sidewalk. “Do you really try to forget about it?”

“Of course not,” Tamamori sputters, hugging himself even though he’s not cold. “Senga and Nikaido are just so happy and in love…”

“Senga and Nikaido don’t set the standard for healthy couples,” Miyata says firmly. “I’ve told you a million times that I don’t need that from you. I love you as you are. Even if you can’t love me back like that.”

“I _don’t_ regret marrying you,” Tamamori emphasizes, wrinkling his nose at actually saying the words. “I regret not having a proper wedding. With our families and everyone. Yokoo officiating for us, Fujikita pretending not to cuddle, Nisen jealous of us instead.”

Miyata’s uncharacteristic serious face breaks into the grin that Tamamori will never admit cheers him right up. “You’re jealous of their wedding?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Tamamori huffs.

“You do realize that the entire reason we didn’t have a proper wedding is because you demanded that I marry you _right then_ , right?”

“Well, yes…”

“And you get uncomfortable even talking about feelings, let alone declaring them in front of other people.”

“That is true.”

Miyata gently places both hands on Tamamori’s arms, coaxing them away from his own body. “Tama-chan, I would marry you in the middle of a concert at the Tokyo Dome. I would marry you at the bottom of the ocean. I would marry you on the _moon_ and every planet in the solar system, one after the other. I would marry you wherever, whenever, however many times, just to marry you over and over again. I wake up every morning and thank God that I’m not dreaming and you’re really next to me, wearing my ring around your neck, sharing your world with me. I love you so much that the words ‘I love you’ don’t seem strong enough for how I feel—”

“Okay, okay,” Tamamori cuts him off, his face burning as he struggles out of Miyata’s grip. “I know all of that stuff already.”

“You’re cute when you’re embarrassed,” Miyata teases, though he keeps his hands to himself. “Tell you what, when it’s legal in Japan, we’ll have a proper wedding.”

Tamamori frowns. “What if it’s never legal?”

“It will be,” Miyata assures him. “It’s social evolution.”

Tamamori lets his hope lift his spirits for the time being. “It’ll be better than Nisen’s wedding?”

“Definitely,” Miyata agrees.

Hesitantly, Tamamori reaches for Miyata’s hand. “Thanks.”

Their fingers entwine naturally for the rest of their walk, the hallway thankfully quiet when they return to the hotel. Silently they get ready for bed, bathing together like they have for years, and Miyata is barely under the covers before Tamamori flings both arms around him, clinging to him so tightly that he doesn’t know where he ends and Miyata begins.

“I love you too,” Miyata whispers, and Tamamori loses himself in the familiar scent and comfortable embrace that makes him forget all about romantic weddings.


End file.
